Waking Up [Open]

There was a momentary panic settling in Alfred's gut before he realized that he could move - but barely. And even then, he felt sore all over, with the sort of stinging on various parts of his skin associated with cuts and scratches. It almost felt familiar then, because he always injured himself while going all out on a football match, that he's almost used to getting physically hurt.

He tried moving his legs again, and there was a shot of pain running up his spine. Wow. That must've been one hell of a game, he thought fleetingly, opening his eyes before realizing -

- he hasn't played football close to a year now.

Disoriented, Alfred tried to sit up, accidentally jarring his right wrist held in a strong brace - the movement made his tender nerves cry out in pain, and he hissed. It took him a while to move as slowly and as carefully as possible to make himself comfortable, and even then the effort strained his energy so much that he was already breathing irregularly when he was done.

It's been a long time since he's felt this kind of fatigue. His head fell back against the pillows as he stared uncomprehendingly at the ceiling, with a frown on his face. He must've been through surgery, and it must've taken a lot out of him…

… I fell off a cliff.

Yeah. He almost forgot about that. Alfred peered around almost nervously and there was a something, shining slightly in the low light, and he realised it was in the familiar shape of his glasses, and perched them on his nose. Much better. Alfred turned his head almost with a breakneck speed towards his left, wondering if maybe his college friends sent him cards and -

They're probably busy, he decided as a plausible explanation for the stark emptiness of the room, looking to his left and finding a bouquet of his favorite flowers lying on the side table. The collection of roses was small and sweet, with a card sprawled across it. He reached out with his uninjured arm, and struggled to open it for the message inside.

Get well soon; Mom and Dad.

He smiled shakily. Of course they wouldn't be here, because they were on the other side of the country and he wouldn't want them to be around either - not because they weren't on good terms, but because he didn't them want to worry. At least they understood that. A glint of the light caught his attention and he saw under the flowers, was his phone. He picked it up without a moment's hesitation; of course they won't send me cards they'd send me m -

- essages, (1 NEW)From M------ Jonesu ok, bro?

Alfred frowned. He couldn't help but put down his phone on the table in a deceptively gentle manner. At - at least his brother bothered to message him, right? His friends were just busy - right? Beyond irritated (upset) - he saw that the door to his ward was slightly open - he shouted.

"Anyone out there!? HELLO! Patient over here, and he's totally awake," he bellowed sarcastically, trying desperately to find any sort of distraction.

Matt wheeled himself along, nervously glancing back and forth as he continued on his search. He did not want to get caught by Kiku, or any other doctor for that matter. Maybe if he just kept a cool and collected look on his face... Pft, who was he kidding? He probably looked like a toddler with his hands in the cookie jar. Matt could never lie. So basically, if he were caught, he was screwed.

Well, if the Children's ward had a sports channel, he wouldn't have wandered out. But, even in the hospital, Matt remembered that today was an important day that he simply could not afford to miss. Today was the day that the Vancouver Canucks were going to kick the San Jose Shark's asses. Or, in a normal human being's words, a hockey game between a Canadian team and an American team. And Matt simply adored the Canucks. They were his favorite team. And he could not afford to miss a game simply because 5 year olds would rather watch Barney & Friends.

The boy struggled with the motion of moving though. This time, he decided to remained connected to his intravenous, which proved to be difficult. In the end, Matt used the long string used the tie up his gown to tie to the bar so it trailed behind his wheelchair. Not exactly effective, as Matt's gown was held shut by...well...nothing but the weight of the IV and said IV clattered noisily behind, but it worked. Of course, it only looked utterly ridiculous and completely out of place, but Matt's mind was focusing on finding a television, not on how he looked. Wheeling himself through a doorway, he smiled with his confidence in the Canadian team.

'The Canucks are going to wipe the floor with them. Yeah, Hockey is Canada's sport. Haha, if I cheer when the Canucks win, I wonder what will kill me first; my illness or the raging California fans?' Matt thought to himself, slightly amused. Knowing his luck, it would be a long, agonizing death. He stopped for a second, staring at the ground in front of him, eyes looking beyond the tiled stone.

'I wonder how much longer...' he thought to himself, his grip tightening on the wheels involuntarily. Kiku never did tell him, but he never did ask. He was too scared to. What if Kiku said a week? A month? A few days? If Matt was told, he'd never get over it. But, not knowing was almost as bad. He didn't know when he'd drop, or if he would. Matt knew that his chances were minimal. After all, three months was unlikely. Now multiply that by twelve. Three years undiagnosed... What we-

Matthew blinked, shaken from his thoughts of self pity. 'Merde, I have to stop doing that!' he thought to himself, chiding his negativity. He turned, wondering where the call came from. Someone loud, that was for sure. But Matt couldn't really ignore a call for help. What if they had fallen?

Well, they'd probably sound more distressed...but... what if they were really tough and sucking it up? Matt wheeled himself a little quicker, his wild imagination conjuring up ridiculous scenarios in his pre-adult mind. He peaked into each room, looking for the distressed patient.

He finally found him. And Matt froze when he did.

Mon Dieu, il me ressemble! Matt thought, his thoughts swarming his brain in both English and French. H-he looked like him! He looked like an older version of him! Blond hair, shorter and straighter than his, but the exact shade, glasses, similar face.... He didn't mean to be rude, but he stared with wide eyes at the crippled man that looked similar to him. He was heavily bandaged, indicating serious injury. Really serious. Matt slowly rolled up to the bed, concern and confusion flickering in his violet eyes. What.. could have happened to do this to him?

Swallowing, Matthew tried to clear his throat before speaking, level of volume a notch above that of a whisper. "Um... would you like me to get a doctor?"

[Sorry for taking so long. And your text is pink because Romu said it should be]